2013-11-05 - Making a Club Scene
It's evening, and the streets are busy. The galleries are shut, but the clubs, restuarants, and other establishments are busy... a perfect cover. Natasha Romanov, Agent of SHIELD, sometime Avenger, femme fatale extrordinaire, hardly looks the part of a hero tonight-- no, with her tight black leather pants, heeled boots, stomach-baring red designer tank and black shrug, her hair held back with a band, she looks more like a young woman heading out for a night of clubbing. Her face is done up with a touch of dark, dramatic makeup that helps with this illusion. Her wrists are wrapped with what looks, to the glances of any civilian onlookers, to be a pair of matching, overlarge tight-fitting bracelets. Those who recognize the woman and have seen her in actions, however, would recognize the lethal weapons for what they are. Her hand is resting in the crook of the arm of a handsome young man that is walking beside her. She leans against him, a laugh coming from her lips as she leans her mouth close to his ear. "Are you sure," she murmurs, "that the tracker leads us here?" Sometimes you just fall into noir chic. It just happens, you aren't really trying for it. A nearby bar sits for the wrong sort of crowd - older people, older music. More affluent, perhaps, but nothing bright or cheerful or... twerky... here. Standing under a streetlight is a tallish man with black hair in a slightly rumpled suit. An e-cig is in one hand, the vapor slowly leaving his nose after a recent drag. A young man was nearby him, a boy he didn't really know all that well. "Not sure there's a Crif Dogs in this area, John. Last I remembered they were way down near St. Mark's place," far downtown. "But there's pubs here, and clubs if you need to vent by dancing. Certainly better than being an aggressive meathead, yeah? Awful things happen in our line of work. Coping by more violence doesn't help." He meant to lecture; he was a mentor to the lad, after all. Clint laughs along with Natasha, putting a leather clad arm around her waist as he whispers back. "Yep, this is the place," he confirms tucking his Avenger's ID out of sight. He's dressed to match Natasha's style tonight. A leather jacket, black and purple, over a button down shirt and pair of faded jeans that might actually be purchased that way. As for weapons, his trade mark bow is missing but there is something under his jacket in a holster for people who are trained to notice that sort of thing. He catches sight of Pete in the streetlight ahead and frowns. Leave it to Wisdom to show up out of the blue. He doesn't try to get his attention though, but his presence is definitely noted. He leans into Natasha again "So what's the plan?" he asks. John moved with some depression, beside him on a strong chain very close is what appears to be a black Mastiff. The dog is almost abnormally large for the breed. He had been spending two hours in the combat zone after the battle in metropolis blowing off steam. "Hey I didn't intend to harm him period. Just get him... to stop attacking me." John lowers his head as he looks around him almost paranoid now. "And I was just blowing off Steam in the center that's all. I have no desire to actually harm anyone I assure you." Having had a horrible day he was fairly upset when two people died. First the guy's head exploded after he got him out of the power armor, and then when he pointed out a woman had some of Cyber's material she ran. When chased down by the cops, Her head exploded. Someone wants Cyber badly enough they will kill to protect themselves from discovery. For now... As Cyber pointed out. They seem to want John alive, which means they won't risk harming him. But John wants these guys taken down fast, he is also not in the mood for trouble more or less just following Pete at this point. "I wonder where your friend is?" Natasha asks aloud. The words themselves are innocuous enough, and the normal faint tinge of accent she has is gone-- tonight, her voice is perfectly 'normal' to the average New Yorker. She sees Pete, and then the kid beside him, and gives Wisdom a slight nod, but does not otherwise let it show she recognizes him. Blue eyes flit down and across the street. "I don't see him." "Bad luck, mate. And keep it down, we're supposed to be having fun. If you want to be gloomy, go to Xavier's. They love to stew in their own funk." Pete's affiliated with the mutant school, too? "Also, keep mum here. We've got people working." He reached into a breast pocket, producing a pair of dark sunglasses and sliding them over his eyes. This was solely so he could watch Natasha and Clint less obviously. Now he really looked the secret agent part. "So whatcha wanna do, lad? Dance? Get a drink? I don't drink anymore, mind, but I won't be upset if you start. Could step into a jazz bar if we're feeling this under the weather..." Pete didn't return the nod to Natasha; he merely watched sidelong, his eyes moving but his head looking to regard John. "I mean, you must watch the game, or something, yeah? I heard the Red Sox finally won in like, a century. Granted, I'd rather watch West Ham dominate anyone..." Rugby. A real sport. As he inhales and thinks about a drink. "I'm not 21 yet." he's not gonna lie about his age." John totally misses the nod from Natasha, Cyber doesn't how ever tilting his head some to the left and right. "hmmmm, I feel like big loaded Chilidog." Looking around he says, "I think there is a place down this way that serves some of the largest one's I have seen. you know Those polish sausages? The hotdogs are about that size, split open, and grilled over hickory wood and charcoal." Of course That stand he knows if is very close to here. John finally notices where Cyber is looking and out of the corner of his eye does look at Natasha he vaguely recalls her from someplace. But cannot recall from where. Clint notes John and Cyber on the street as well. Well if things were going to get interesting better to have allies showing up out of the blue than more enemies. "Hold on babe, I'm getting a text," he answers Natasha as he pulls out his ID card taking a look at the screen. "Looks like he's up ahead, in there," he says as they walk past Pete, letting his words carry so the three of them hear. Then back in club guy mode he says "Just that loser Chett," he says about the supposed text. "Guy owes me money. Anyhow, wanna get a drink or something?" "Sounds wonderful," Natasha replies. "I think we should... ah... get our drinks on." Painful to hear, yes, but despite her apparent youth, the woman is over seventy years old. Pretending to be a modern twenty-something can be /hard/. Still, she leans against her fellow Avenger and SHIELD agent, laughing merrily and 'allowing' him to 'lead her'. The woman's eyes glitter as she eyes the door to the club that their target is supposedly in. Still, she plays her role. "This place? You can get us in?" she asks with a sensual purr, the kind of tone that makes any other man around feel jealous knowing the man she is hanging on is certainly getting some tonight. She lets Clint take point, though her hand slips around him, resting on his back-- and curves, then taps, in a short pattern that Wisdom might recognize as an old code. Bloody spies. Sometimes they're too good. Wisdom felt that curling in his stomach. That pang of jealousy. Swallowing it down, he was working now, and knew that's what the two of them were doing. It didn't help that his opinion of Clint wasn't the most positive. Chalk it up to classic reasons. "Not quite hungry right this second, John," Pete said. "But do me a favor, yeah? Look down that way," he gestured, away from Clint and Natasha, "and check rooftops and windows, would you?" His voice was low, quiet. He was watching towards Clint and Natasha, doing the same. "You like games, John? Might be soon we get our game faces on." He can't believe he used that phrase. But all the same, he watched eyes hard, peering trained up to the usual suspects of vantage points. John is careful on how he looks up using his eyes to search out as if to avoid drawing too much attention to his attempt to scout the place. "Well depends on the game. I prefer video games. I can be good at some. Star Trek Online in particular." He says having gotten his tone. "What I don't like is how PVP there is full of assholes and trouble makers. It's like they take things serious and life and death at times." Clint briefly flashes a look at Natasha, as if to say 'you did not just say that'. Then he's leading her to the door, the pair becoming bathed in red neon from the sign above the door, and getting dirty looks from the bouncers at the head of the long line of people being denied enty. "Sure I can get us in," he says leading them up to the bouncers. "You on the list?" the no-neck at the door asks, clip board in hand. "Yeah," Clint says leaning to peer at the board for a second, seeing no pictures he says "Keller, Julian Keller," he says with a winning smile. "I'm on the list right?" The guy looks down at the list and nods. "Yeah, you're on the list, welcome to Club Energy," he says stepping aside. Natasha slips into the club with Clint. The noise from the speakers as the throbbing electronic music blares is almost physical in natures, a wave of energy almost pushing the erstwhile couple back a step. Dozens of writhing bodies 'dance' on the floor, jerking, 'twerking', and slithering in a throbbing, pulsing mass of humanity. Natasha shoots Clint a questioning look. she mouths. There are three bars, the only real light in the darkness of the club, save the occasional flashes and strobes from the DJ booth. The bars all glow red, and each have three bartenders mixing drinks and sliding them across the bar to those taking breaks from the dance. Pete Wisdom cursed a little. "I meant game face... working face. Bugger, they're going inside." He shook his head. "Not sure if your dog's allowed inside. But worth a shot." Sliding his fingers through his hair, he rubbed his hands over his face - stubbly, his moustache and goatee were coming in a bit more thickly. Perfect. "Let's get to work," he said. Surprisingly, his accent was gone, and his voice sounded a little different. Being a spy meant being an actor, and he sounded a little bit like... Tony? He kept the sunglasses on, though, as he strode confidently towards the line. Smoothing out his suit, making sure the buttons were done and his tie was straight, he gave a wide, friendly smile as he wriggled through people and tried to wave John along with him. "Come on, buddy, you're gonna love this. I work way too damn much, and sometimes it's good to unwind. You could learn that, too," he said, doing a surprising facsimile of Mr. Stark. Once he strode up to the bouncers, he was pressed to the chest. He grunted. "You know I'm on the list. I'm on every list." He had to lean in to whisper, "I'm Tony Stark." Then came a problem. "Prove it." Without missing a beat, Wisdom said, still mimicking Tony, "Any two sides of a right triangle is equal to the square root of the remaining side, and," he lifted a hand to unbutton a button on his dress shirt. He moved his tie away, and lowered his undershirt a bit. Then there was a faint orange glow, before it faded as he pulled it all back up. Here's the kicker - most reasonable people know that Tony's neat little device isn't orange. But people love celebrities, and normally want to believe that they're in the presence of one. So with some silly math and a bit of a light show, the bouncers wave 'Tony,' in. "The boy and his dog are with me. The dog's a life-model decoy, it's harmless." Accepting the technobabble, Pete just smoothed their way into Club Energy. As Pete seems to dumbfound John with the talk he says, "Serious? Life or death?" John shakes his head You would have thought that that last part of his point on pvp being player verse player and taking things so seriously as if it was life or death would have been clear. He is gonna have to give Pete some form of education in gamer talk after this night. As John holds the Chain on Cyber around his Fist and then when Pete tells him it's a Life model Decoy he thinks. //I have been trying to pass Cyber off as a real dog.// That cover was more or less blown. Still John moves with Pete as he looks around the place to the beat. Granted the Music and the beat in the place make him seem to pick up. When John notices the Woman from the street also in here. He points out to her, or rather a lady close beside her. "She looks like Trouble Tony, better stay away this time." And he will do his best to also make sure Tony doesn't embarrass him. Clint pulls out the ID and hmphs, as he checks the screen "He's in the VIP naturally," he says before moving towards the private area at the back of the club. Glancing back at the door he smirks when he sees Pete and John got in as well. He whispers into Natasha's ear "Seems like our backup is here. What's our play?" "Acquire target, neutralize, return him for questioning." Natasha lifts a brow. "Try not to kill the civilians." What goes unsaid, of course, is the /how/. The VIP room is closed, with an additional set of bouncers on the door. The frosted glass provides some privacy-- but not enough that it isn't obvious that there's at least a handful of people in the room-- the target is not alone. She nuzzles into his neck, though it only brings her closer to his ear. "Your move, Barton. He's your 'friend'." Pete Wisdom strode on easy. When he had the chance so he could speak low and now have to shout, he told John, "I mentioned the life-model decoy thing because they wouldn't let a real dog in here. Your pooch's identity is safe with me. Now shush and come on," he gestured, making a beeline for the VIP room. And why shouldn't he? He's Tony Stark! He headed up the stairs, and was stopped by the bouncers. He pulled the same trick, even with the orange glow. But it wasn't enough. So he pulled his Avengers Academy ID, and had his thumb over the name. "See this?" he said, doing his best 'Tony Frustrated' face - and having been friends with the man for some time, knew it very well - "Look, I'm not even sure why I should address you directly." He's not about to threaten to buy the place, Tony's not THAT crass. He isn't Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne is weird, with his semi-pied piper effect on kids. As John and his dog move up with Tony he smiles as he watches and moves up tot he VIP area. Then as the pair are stone walled, John thinks and tries to be fast on his mind and says, "Hey Tony if they won't believe you are who you say. There's another club down the street, then these bozos can explain to their bosses why they let a large spender like you leave." John Says playing the money card. The guards look at John with a nasty way and he just narrows his eyes at them. The way a body guard might when expecting trouble. The idea that this kid might be Iron man sans armor hits them in the head, and they did recall a vague report of the Iron Man armor coming to get Tony stark after a heart attack. One of them Chills. "Sorry Mr. Stark, Please go right in." And then with a Smile. John allows //Tony// to say things as Cyber simply nods. Seeing John and 'Tony' getting into the VIP Clint grabs Nat around the waist an hurries up behind them. "Hey boss," Clint says to Pete with a smile. "Got room for two more at your table?" he says, looking hopeful even as he nudges past the bouncers. The bouncers, not wanting to deal with the fallout their bosses would drop on their heads from pissing off Tony Stark, step aside and let the four into the VIP area. The VIP is a maze of frosted glass. A hallway, of sorts, only lit by a line of red LEDs on the floor, goes forward about 20 ft or so before abruptly turning to either side. Doors of the same frosted glass the 'walls' are made of are sporadic along the hallway. Some of the rooms are occupied-- and from the noises coming from within, there is a reason why the VIP area is build for at least psuedo privacy. Black Widow looks to Hawkeye. "Which room, Clint?" she asks quietly. She gives John a slight nod, and Pete. Well. He gets a half-smile. "'Mr. Stark'," she says with a straight face. Pete Wisdom had to have put away his e-cig to keep a better line on this identity. "Hey, pretty lady. Ditch the loser, hop in my Jag later." He gave a wink. Now he was just being silly, but they were already in. After saying his peace, though, he shushed. He had no idea what was going on; it was up to the Hawk or the Widow to give him (and his current charge) proper intel, and neither of them had an obligation to do it. John rolls his eyes after they are in shaking his head. He was glad that worked. Better to let in fakes then let the big fish really get away. When John realizes it's Clint who is with the lady John relaxes and asks. "Should I leave you to attend to business unless I am needed Mr. Stark?" he asks //Tony// for details of what he should do. John's new to the hero bit, and wants to keep himself out of the way unless needed. And it would give in a place to //suit up// if he needs to. Cyber moves beside John while the human pair of the pair just head shakes at //Tony// But says nothing as a Good security guard should. Clint pulls out the ID card and gestures for the crew to huddle up around him while he shows them the screen. Standard locator stuff, range to target about 20 feet, a looks like a room to their left. "Okay, this guy tried to hit me last night, we're going to take him down and bring him to SHIELD for questioning. Last time he had explosives and some sort of weird corrosive liquid. So keep your eyes open, okay?" Then time for talking is over and Clint puts away the ID and reaches into his coat for a gun. It's a bit bigger than a standard automatic pistol and those who are familiar with SHIELD weapons will recognize it as one of their non-leathal dart guns. "I've got point," he announces then without further discussion heads to the room on the right and throws open the door. "Miss me?" he asks the occupants as he scans for the guy from the restaurant. "What the fuck, buddy?" an unfamiliar young mans voice snaps. A fairly attractive college age man is sitting on a red pleather couch with two younger college-aged girls in varying states of... not quite dressed. From the look of things, he was enjoying himself before Clint interrupted. One of the items of clothing strewn on the floor is a suit jacket-- the same one as was worn by the man at Romeo's the night before. Natasha is right behind Clint, though upon seeing the state of the occupants, she smirks slightly. "Sorry..." she says quickly. "Wrong room." She slides her arms around Hawkeye's waist, starting to drag him back a bit. Pete Wisdom did one thing. One very important thing. He face-palmed. He'll complain about professionalism later. "Wow," Clint says a he sees what's going on inside, but in a show of amazing restraint keeps searching the for their target before he takes in the girls. Seeing the jacket on the floor he scowls, a second and then lets Nat pull him out of the room. "Sorry bro, keep doing what you're doing!" he calls out as he tugs the door closed. He lets out a breath "Well, good to see someone is having fun tonight," he remarks before he looks at the group, team, whatever it is he had there. "So our guy ditched the tracker with Captain Threeway there, odds are he's long gone. Seems like we got all dressed up for nothing folks." Natasha barely stifles a laugh. "Well," the Deputy Director says coolly, "what did we learn tonight, Hawkeye?" Pete Wisdom adjusted his sunglasses. "Expect trouble anyway," he said, still sounding like Tony. Don't break character, dammit. Doing all he can to avoid cracking a smile John looks behind them making sure that someone has not snuck open on the door and is peeking out at possible trouble. Looking around he keeps his eyes open. "Might still be here, may have dropped it off. Some place." Cyberdragon says, "If I found a tracker, assuming it was possible, I would leave it in some room and stay close by. Make those following me think I was long gone, stay under their nose." Clint looks at Natasha. "Get Tony here," he jerks a thumb at Pete. "To make me a smaller tracker for one, and let someone else take point," he says archly crossing his arms. "Well if he's around then I imagine he's doing exactly that, Cyber, waiting for us. So, I say we take this outside, if he's going to make a move I'd rather not have him do it in a busy club full of hostages." "Alright." And John and Cyber will move outside as Quickly as he can with his friends. John intends to Suit up one they get outside. "Tony make smaller trackers." He says to Pete. Pete Wisdom blinks. "I need a workshop for that. I'm not some kind of technomancer. I'm a scientist, not a god." He can't make tech out of nothing. Plus, he's not really Tony. He gave Natasha a look that sort of said, 'help me out here.' Now that the need for cover has well since been blown, Natasha is not clinging to Clint anymore; in fact, her body language and expression is all business. "You're right, Barton. Let's leave, preferably without a scene." "...a...scene." The gears are turning. "Draw her out. Yes." And she moves to Pete's side, sliding her arm in his. "New plan. Barton, you and the kid and the dog wait outside. Tony and I have a scene to throw." Her body language changes quickly again--here is the seductress, leaning on Pete's shoulder, her fingers twined in his just so. Clint tilts his head to look at Natasha. "A scene?" he murmurs. "Right. C'mon kid," he says to John before he realizes John's already heading for the door. "Smart kid," Clint says and then tucking his gun away he heads out right after him. "So hard not to crack a joke Clint." And he moves out quickly eager to get into a secluded area where he and Cyber can merge properly without giving themselves away. "I hope this gose smoothly My day has been shit! I am not in the mood for some jackass to make it worse." Of course that will be if Clint got the message of what happened in Metropolis. Once the pair get out Side John moves down a dark alley with Cyber as the two head out of Sight and then... Merge. Cyberdragon says, Want a lift to the roof of the Building?" 'Tony' went absolutely languid when Natasha slipped around him, coiling her fingers around his. His eyes went half-shut in a wide smile, and he gave a boisterous laugh. Perhaps he sounded a little intoxicated. That was the intent. "Sorry, sweetheart, I think you have me at a disadvantage," he said, fanning himself lightly. "Tell me your secrets, give a guy a sporting chance..." Leaning against Pete, Natasha mutters in his ear, "Dance floor. Make it convincing. I want the entire island to hear that Stark and the Black Widow are... well, leave it to their imaginations." Tony wanted a plan. This may have been off the cuff, but it had the advantage of potentially putting Nat in the firing line, not Stark. "Besides," she continues, "think of this as payback for Pryiet. We still never retreived that box." Clint looks less than pleased himself when he gets out on to the street. "Yeah, well when this is over we can compare bad days and see how they stack up," he almost barks at John before he nods. "Yeah, ride to the roof. Also, if you can keep airborne I want to see if this guy slips out of any side doors or anything. Dark haired guy, was wearing a black suit. Unfortunately I don't have much more to go on." CyberDragon will Grab hold of Clint's arm firmly as he will will extend those wings and then fly, At first it's gentle so he doesn't rib Clint's arm out of his socket. Not a good archer if his arm's damaged but once he is airborn, Cyber will fly hard to get Clint to the Roof where he can drop Clint on it from one ten or so feet in the air. And Cyber will move flying around watching and listening for sounds and people. He is watching and expecting someone to come out the rear or side of the building. An hour, maybe more passes without either that target leaving the building, or the two spies, Russian and British, left within. But then they pour out, 'Tony' and the Widow, in a small crowd of admirers. They are holding onto each other, swaying drunkenly, kissing each other-- lips, neck, where ever they can manage in seeming intoxication. Their admirers seem thrilled. Of course, a taxi is summoned, and the two 'drunken' spies pour themselves into it. Rumors may already be starting to spread...